The Concrete Jumble
by KSherwood
Summary: This episode of TDA takes place a few episodes after "The Moth Meanders" and parodies the gangster film genre.  Duncan and Gwen are a gang.  Heather and LeShawna are another.  Owen is the sheriff who has to bring them to justice.


The Concrete Jumble

By

KSherwood

Machine-gunfire shattered the early morning silence on the abandoned film lot. It was Chris McLean, getting his usual early-morning kick by rousing the kids in an unorthodox manner. A flock of geese dropped from the sky as if they had been shot. The competitors rushed out of the trailers, and when they saw it was only Chris, they stared in sullen silence, arms folded.

"Aw, come on!" Chris wailed to the viewing world. "Those were blanks!"

On cue, the geese all jumped up and attacked him. Chef Hatchet surveyed the scene from the craft tent, arms folded also, enjoying the sight of Chris at the mercy of the birds, before firing _his_ shotgun into the air, at which the geese scattered, leaving Chris torn and bleeding on the ground.

He tossed two twenties at Duncan. "Here. Order a couple breakfast pizzas while Chef here treats my wounds."

Duncan smirked at the money, but Heather smacked him across the head with her make-up bag. "Don't even think about it," she snapped. "I'm ordering. It's obvious that you can't be trusted."

Heather ordered. The pizzas arrived. They ate, and Chris, heavily bandaged, emerged from the first-aid tent with an even more bad-tempered than usual Chef.

"Well, once you've finished breakfast we'll get you assigned your roles and outfitted for them."

"Don't tell me we're gonna make another movie?" LeShawna asked.

"Okay. I won't." Chris grinned. "Nah, it's more like The Murder Game instead of another movie. Five minutes."

Heather, LeShawna, Duncan, Gwen, and Owen stared at each other. The minutes crept by in sepulchral silence, complete with hearse and police escort. Finally Owen broke the silence by pointing at Heather's half-eaten slice of pizza and asking, "you gonna eat that?"

She glowered at him and shoved the plate in his direction. He ate the pizza, paper plate and all. Gwen stood up and shook her raven head dismissively at the others. Heather followed suit, except that she didn't have any hair to shake. Duncan finished his pizza grumbled something or other and went after Gwen and Heather, flanked by LeShawna. Owen drank the rest of the orange juice, burped loudly and exited the craft tent.

Chris was not far from the tent, sitting in the driver's seat of a vintage '34 Ford, a fedora over his eyes.

"What's with the getup?" LeShawna asked.

Chris leered at the group and attempted to lisp, "today's movie is the gangster movie, sweetheart."

Duncan rolled his eyes. "That is the saddest Bogart impression I've ever heard, Chris. Owen could do better."

"Hey," Owen said.

"As a matter of fact, I wasn't doing Bogart." Chris retorted. "That was how I talked in my greatest role… Eddie Robbins from _Big Napoleon_." He sniffed. "Lowbrows."

Duncan and Owen exchanged glances.

"Do we get hats?" Heather asked.

"Duncan and Gwen do," Chris said, tossing them each a fedora, prop cigar, and paintball gun. "The Heather-LeShawna gang doesn't. Just the guns."

"Nothing?"

"Oh, here," Chris said. "You can have this wig. It was left over from _Happy Acres II: When Grandmas Take Over."_

Heather eagerly slapped the horrible gray wig on her head. She giggled like she might if she happened to be standing on top of the world.

"Girl," LeShawna said. "You've got issues."

"What?" Heather snapped, her eyes blazing with white heat. "I am bald, okay?"

"Don't I get to be in a gang, too?" Owen asked, eyes like a puppy that's been denied a nice raw rump roast.

"Oh don't worry," Chris said with a touch of evil in his voice. "You're the sheriff. Here."

He tossed Owen a badge and the last fedora.

Owen put the hat on his head, pinned the badge to his shirt, and glowered at the group. "Police work is only easy in a police state," he rumbled.

Chris and Chef Hatchet looked at each other, worried.

Owen cackled. "Ooh, I gotcha there. I really sounded like Brian Wells, didn't I?"

"Orson Welles, stupid." Duncan said.

"Ohhh." Owen said.

"Better hope he doesn't hold it against you," Gwen said.

"Goth girl brings up ghost," Heather drawled, voice full of false sincerity.

"You leave them alone, skinny Miss Drama Queen, "LeShawna snapped.

"Okay, cool it," Chris said. "Leave the bloodletting for later. Your first task is to rob the bank and avoid Owen. Owen, you have to catch the eggs as they try to get away."

"Yeggs," Duncan corrected. "And I should know. I am one."

Gwen punched him on the arm.

"Duncan and Gwen are up first," Chris said. "Should be an easy one. Just the one defenseless teller. You'll be judged on technique and form as well as on robbery time. Okay…go!"

Duncan grinned at Gwen and whispered something to her. They strolled nonchalantly into the bank and paused at the sight of the defenseless teller. It was none other than Chef Hatchet, wearing a short blonde wig and a very Great Depression-era dress.

"Hello, Miss-ter," Duncan said, treating Chef to a very cocky smile. "Nice day, isn't it? We're Duncan and Gwen, and we've come to withdraw our entire accounts."

"Oh please," Chef said.

Gwen and Duncan drew their guns and Chef raised his hands in surrender.

"Put the money in the bag," Duncan ordered. "Just the bank's money. You can keep what you've got in your pockets."

"Don't overdo it," said Gwen. "Or we'll lose points for plagiarism."

"Yeah, don't want to do that anymore," Duncan agreed. He tipped his hat at Chef. "Thank you, ma'am."

Chef threw the empty money drawer at him. Gwen and Duncan ran for it. Owen was waiting for them, and they put on a fresh burst of speed.

"You can't catch us!" Gwen yelled, eager for dialogue.

"You're right," Owen puffed, falling over, giving up on catching the two public enemies. "I can't. I oughta lay off the candy bars."

Heather and LeShawna burst into the bank, arguing loudly. Chef rolled his eyes. They were in front of his window, nose to nose, yelling simultaneously, words unintelligible. Suddenly they both drew guns on each other. There was a moment where nobody moved, uncertain what the two ropers would do, but Chef had had enough. He plopped the money onto the counter without being asked.

Heather came out of her rage trance first, and grabbed the bag. "C'mon," she growled at LeShawna. "We'll settle this later."

LeShawna hesitated. Heather stamped her foot angrily. "Get a move on, LeShawna."

"Aw, come on," LeShawna said, sarcastically, jogging after her. "This ain't the Roaring Twenties."

They made good their escape, for Owen was still trying to catch his breath. Chris, however, was not impressed.

"Unplanned, unorganized, and utterly charmless," he said. "James Cagney is probably spinning in his grave. Whoever he is."

Duncan opened his mouth. Gwen shook her head. "Can it."

"What's with you?" Duncan asked.

"And Owen…" Chris continued. "Where to start? You didn't even come close to catching either gang. Not good, man."

Chef lurched out of the bank, still in costume, holding a black and white checkered flag.

"The next challenge is," Chris said, "the car chase. We've got three amusement park surplus period cars that you'll drive. Since Duncan and Gwen had the best robbery, they get first pick."

"Sweet," Gwen said, but Duncan was already behind the driver's seat of the black one.

"Let's go to work," he said.

Owen and the Heather-LeShawna gang picked their cars and lined up at the starting line.

"Legal said we couldn't have a true car chase, so no side-swiping, but you can shoot at each other with the paintball guns. First one across the finish line wins. Chef, will you do the honors?"

Chef muttered something that sounded like "you dirty rat" under his breath and waved the flag. The cars took off, sort of, given that they could only go maybe ten-mph tops. Gwen fired a paintball at Owen and hit the door of his car. LeShawna got off a shot at Duncan, but missed, and "winged" Chris instead.

"What the crap are you doing, shooting while you're driving," Heather screamed at her. "Who do you think you are-the Terminator?"

LeShawna fired another shot at Owen in response, missing again. Heather tried to grab it, but LeShawna bitch-slapped her away. Heather started screaming and trying to get the gun. LeShawna was no longer paying any attention to the road and driving like a maniac. Duncan had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting her car, giving Owen a chance to shoot him in the shoulder with his own blue paintball gun.

"The driver is injured," Chris announced over the PA, "Gwen, take over, and I'd step on it if I were you."

Gwen switched places with Duncan and they resumed the race, but it was obvious that they could not make up the lost ground. The Heather-LeShawna gang thundered across the finish line, followed by Sheriff Owen and finally Duncan and Gwen. Heather jumped onto the hood of the car, laughing maniacally. "Made it! I'm on top of the universe!"

Duncan and Gwen winced.

"Hey," LeShawna said. "You're on top, but you're in bad shape."

"Yeah," agreed Owen. "You need to take a chill pill. You're scaring me."

"What?" Heather snapped.

"Okay," Chris said. "Take five people. Smoke 'em if ya got 'em."

"Please note that the show does not endorse the use of tobacco products in any way, shape or form. Is legal satisfied now?" Chris stood there, glaring.

LeShawna addressed the Confession Cam. "I don't know what white-hair- Tommy-gun power trip Heather is on right now, but I don't like it one bit."

She was followed by Duncan. He was cleaning his nails with his knife. "Heather's acting like James Cagney. Ha. Too bad Courtney won't do that. I like a tough woman."

Gwen took her turn. "Heather isn't the only one taking this too seriously. I can't get a word in edgewise around Duncan. He thinks we're Bonnie and Clyde or something."

Leaving the Confession Cam, Gwen saw Chef holding up one of the tires from Owen's car. She grinned, took aim, and fired off a couple shots on her paintball gun. Both went through the center of the wheel. Chef glared at her. Gwen put the prop cigar in her mouth, blew out some smoke, and walked away.

"Okay." Chris said to the competitors after the break was over. "The final challenge…will be the classic rootin' tootin' gunfight!" He put his hands up, mimicking a gun's shape and shot them into the air. "You've got your paintball guns, now you really get to use them! Criminals. You get to shoot at Owen so he won't catch you. Sheriff Owen…you shoot at them so you can catch them."

"That doesn't make sense," Owen replied.

"True. But violence is good for the ratings. Heh. Heh heh. Duncan and Gwen are first. Walk behind the stage. Owen will be waiting there somewhere to catch you."

Duncan and Gwen smiled at each other and simultaneously cocked their guns. Owen went to the Confession Cam; "I get the feeling this won't be good for me."

Chris gave them the signal and Duncan and Gwen marched down the creepy alley behind the stage where the Gilded Chris ceremonies were held. Gwen noticed Owen's form hiding a little ways ahead and silently pointed him out to Duncan. He nodded and drew. She followed suit. Owen came out of the shadows, his own gun out, "you're under arrest." But they were ready for him, and they opened fire.

In reality it was over in a matter of seconds; Duncan and Gwen each fired off a few rounds at Owen, knocking him off his feet. He spun around in the air for a second then landed on his butt, simply covered in orange paint. However, Chris, hoping to boost the violence angle, had it played in ridiculously slow-motion.

"Cut," Chris yelled. "That was great, Duncan and Gwen…ratings are up half a point already. Owen, what can I say…just isn't your day."

Owen shrugged. "There's still the Heather-LeShawna gang."  
"True." But he didn't mean it.

Heather and LeShawna had to face off Owen in the forest set from _Rodents Who Kill._ They didn't take two minutes of peace before they started fighting again. Soon the arguing exploded into violence. Owen emerged from the bushes to find LeShawna pinning Heather down, slapping her, and Heather clawing at LeShawna, both of them screeching like furies. He flinched, shrugged, walked over to the fight, cuffed LeShawna and then Heather.

"Not bad," Chris said. "Owen, you finally came through. And since no shots were fired, you win this challenge. Which means that anyone can be voted off tonight."

"Sheriff Owen's too smart for ya," Owen gloated at Heather and LeShawna.

Heather kicked him in the shin.

Owen went down to one knee shrieking, "Ow, that smarts!"

The competitors headed to the stage for the Gilded Chris Ceremony. They cast their votes and waited in suspense while Chef, now wearing a gun moll outfit and a scowl that could curdle milk, appeared carrying the try of miniature Chrises.

"Five competitors and four Chrises," Chris said. "Who'll be sent home?"

When no one said anything he shrugged and took one Chris from the tray and tossed it to Duncan.

"Duncan. You were a great criminal, but we knew that anyway." He picked another little statue. "Gwen. Here's yours. And…Owen."

He took the final Gilded Chris and fixed the Heather-LeShawna gang with a severe look. "There are two criminals left, but only one Gilded Chris…who's it gonna be? Who feels…lucky?"

Heather scowled. LeShawna bit her lower lip. Owen ate his Gilded Chris. Heather narrowed her eyes. LeShawna took a deep breath.

"Heather," Chris said, and tossed the final Gilded Chris to her. "You get the final Gilded Chris, which means that LeShawna that will be taking the Lamo-sine home. Sayonara, LeShawna. Mazel tov."

LeShawna swallowed hard, took another breath and stood up. Gwen hugged her goodbye. "You played the game well."

"No hard feelin's," LeShawna agreed, even though her voice cracked a little.

Duncan offered her his cigar; she declined, squared her shoulders and began to walk towards the waiting car. Chef, still scowling, waited, holding the door open. Gwen leaned against the bench, and Duncan put his hand on her shoulder. Heather watched with her arms folded. Chris gripped his podium, and LeShawna kept walking, her step never faltering as the car got closer and closer.

Gradually the scene faded out until no one could be seen but LeShawna, and even though she never cried, a few tears slid down her face for the benefit of all the other future game-show competitors in the audience. And at last, just before she reached the Lamo-sine the scene blacked out entirely.

**The End**


End file.
